Back to Basics
by ahornblaetter
Summary: Corinne Julia Leonhart /n/ : Squall's daughter, SeeD rank 24, falls down frequently. Callum Kinneas /n/ : Selphie's son, completely clueless, idolises Rinn. ahornblaetter /n/ : Woebegone author attempting to chronicle their story in a trilogy. Part One.
1. Prologue

**Back to Basics**

Prologue

Rinn Leonhart stirred and rolled over in her sleep as the first rays of sunlight spilled over the walls of Balamb Garden. Her normally harsh features were at ease and peaceful as slumber had a hold of her; her usually creased brow was relaxed, giving her the look of a sleeping child. Sleep took many years off of her weathered face. Though a creamy milk-white, her skin was parched from two weeks at sea on the journey back from Centra and though she was only nineteen, Rinn already had a collection of scars that riddled her body from head to toe.

A SeeD of rank twenty-four, it was only expected that she would have been marred by her training and the many missions already under her belt. She was no different to any other mercenary of the rank, albeit the fact that she was a good five years younger than most of the others of her stature, ten years younger than some. There wasn't anything exceptional about Rinn, except for the fact that she was the commander's daughter. The sole offspring of Squall and Rinoa Leonhart, she had been living the life of a mercenary almost since she could walk. Born in the infirmary of the Garden and raised for the most part within its walls, it was only expected that as the daughter of the commander she would go far in the SeeD program. By age eleven, she was enrolled as a student at the Garden, already working towards as her career as an elite mercenary: A SeeD cadet. Like her father, she specialized in the use of the gunblade, and like her father she was known as a cold and stoic warrior by the time she was in her mid teens. A perfect mixture of her parents, people often remarked. A spitting image of her mother on the outside, and yet so absurdly like her father as far as her personality went.

Cold, antisocial, taciturn, stoic, aloof, proud and haughty were only some of the adjectives used to describe the child prodigy. Accomplished in practical and theoretical learning and wise in the ways of the world, Rinn was well and truly mature beyond her years. Though, people wondered, what else was to be expected from _Squall Leonhart's _daughter?

Rinn was an enigma to most who encountered her. Both impressed and confused by her, they wondered exactly what she wanted from life. As far as the gossip network went, she was cold and awful, and yet still managed to maintain both steady friendships and a relatively steady flow of male admirers. Rinn was certainly not bad-looking, but she was certainly not social or affectionate. So, people wondered, what exactly did her friends and admirers see in her?

If ever one wanted to inquire as to what qualities the silent prodigy had, Callum Kinneas would be the ideal subject to interrogate on the matter. Both a friend and an admirer, five-thirty in the morning saw the nineteen-year-old sat up in bed, leaning against a mass of pillows while balancing a laptop on his crossed legs.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, and the letters 'ckinn17' appeared in the username field of the Balamb Garden email homepage. He proceeded to enter his password, '432994668R'.

'Welcome back, Callum', the homepage greeted him. Callum hit the link to his inbox and looked sceptically at the highlighted new message. The subject line read 'FW: FW: FW: would u do this? u probably wouldnt.'

Sighing, he clicked the message and rubbed his hands over his face as he waited for the page to load.

_would u do this? u probably wouldnt. would you take a bullet for someone u love? ur girlfriend boyfriend best friend or just someone u care about? if u would then forward this to at least 7 people with the subject 'would u do this? u probably wouldnt.'_

_if u send this to 7 people you will get kissed called or asked out by the person u love by midnight tomorrow. if u ignore this or delete this u will have bad luck forever and die in the next 3 years. if u send this to 1 person u will have bad luck and die in the next 6 years. if u send this to 2 people…_

Callum grimaced and shook his head, already running his finger over the touchpad. Going to delete it? You bet he was. He'd seen it all before, and all his inbox seemed to consist of these days was spammy forwards. He glanced at the sender and snorted. Leila Kinneas. Of course it would be his sister. His eyes flickered unwillingly to the recipients, counting them as he went.

'Rinn Leonhart' , 'Edward Dincht' , 'Bella Almasy' , 'Sierra Hunter' , 'Marlene McKinnon' , 'Dad and Mum' , 'Callum'

Seven, naturally. Leila was the type to get sucked in by that sort of rubbish. Not that he actually thought she believed it, just that she was the sort to send on meaningless stuff like that 'just in case'. After all, you never knew what kind of thing some twelve-year-old kids in downtown Timber were capable of these days. Thermo tracking nukes? No problem. Never mind that they couldn't afford to put a roof over their heads.

'Are you sure you want to delete this message?' a popup box queried.

His eyes flickered up at the prompt box before he tapped he mouse pad viciously.

'Message deleted.'

If indeed anyone had asked him what he saw in Corinne Julia Leonhart, he probably wouldn't have been able to explain how he felt about her. Happily infatuated by the black-haired girl, his answer would have been that he loved everything about her. Such a response probably wouldn't have done much good as far as understanding her allure went, but it would have clarified quite a few things as far as his sentiments toward her went. To her credit, she was incredibly loyal, determined, cool-headed and hard-working. Although obstinacy and pride were two of her failings, when she warmed to someone she was as kind-hearted and caring as anyone could hope to be.

The problem was: How to _get_ her to warm up? It had never been done to the knowledge of anyone in the Garden. Little did anybody know that times were about to change over the course of a few years, and when the revolution was over, nobody would be quite the same.

- - -

**Author's Note: **Well, there's the prologue. Chapter one is up, yes, but don't let that stop you reviewing this installment too! :O I laaaarve you all. Lots. And lots. And lots. :D

**Legal Yadda: **Only the plot and younger generation are mine. If I owned the game, Laguna Loire would have been the main character. :D


	2. Motion

**Back to Basics**

Chapter One

_Motion_

Seven o'clock a.m. saw Rinn Leonhart hunched over her computer, sitting on a creaky swivel chair in a crumpled set of bed clothes consisting of blue-grey track pants and a grey tank top. Her feet were covered by once-white once-fluffy slippers. It was clear by her decidedly bedraggled appearance, drained face and bags under her eyes that she had not long gotten out of bed. She chewed on her lower lip as she waited for her email inbox to load, fiddling with her long charcoal black hair as she did so.

'Welcome back, Corinne', the email homepage proclaimed. She grimaced, thinking once again of how she hated her name and flicked her eyes towards the sidebar menu.

**Inbox (1)**

Draft

Bulk

**Spam (19)**

Sentbox

Favourites

Archive

She clicked on inbox, once again ignoring the build-up of spam that had been accumulating while she was in Centra. Leila had sent her something entitled 'FW: FW: FW: would u do this? u probably wouldnt.' Even the subject reeked of spam, Rinn thought as she clicked it absently. She read over the first couple of sentences and sighed. When would rubbish like this stop circulating the Garden? And were people _really_ stupid enough to believe this sort of thing? she wondered. Any forward that told people they'd die if they didn't send it on should be taken with a pinch of salt, as far as Rinn was concerned. A really big pinch. Maybe two.

Control + A. Control + C. She hit compose.

To: 'Dad'

Cc:

Subject: Spam email, AGAIN.

Control + V.

_Dad_, she wrote,

_Can you send a warning to everyone that's on the forward list? I'm _sick _of this stuff spamming my email. Maybe block forwarding on their accounts?_

_Rinn._

She mashed the 'send' button belligerently and waited for it to come up with the 'message sent' page and then closed the internet browser. Seven o'clock was far too early to concentrate on anything on a weekday, never mind a Saturday. Instead, she opened the start menu and found her instant messenger. Her email address was set to remember, so she quickly keyed in her password (which, oddly enough, was 'panadol') and leaned back with her eyes closed as she waited for it to sign in.

**Online (2) **

.:. tHe PeN iS MiGHtiEr tHan ThE swOrD .:. - and ive used bth hehehe (Away)

Callum (Away) – Blargh.

**Offline (17) **

.:Alanna:. - Rinn and Caaaaaaaallum. -runs-

Lily - "GF theory? ...I can't remember any of it! I'm totally going to fail. I'm more of a prac person anyway." Lol, Casey!

Skye - Are you emo? Want to cry? Dincht Weaponry is for you.

Bella

Ed - hearts Leila.

Irvine

James

Laurie

Leila - hearts Ed.

Marlene

Quistis

Noa 

Seifer

Selphie! - Boom. :D

Sierra - so i herd u liek ochuz Why yes, yes I do. Medium rare – with extra gravy. :D

Squall.

Zell

She cracked an eye open and peered at the first name on her 'Online' list. It was a few seconds before she worked out to whom it belonged. Rinn's grandpa Laguna, as far as she was concerned, was a monster when it came to the internet. She grimaced reproachfully at his childish display name and personal message, shaking her head with woe. Thank goodness he was on 'Away', she thought, or she'd have to talk to him and endure his typing – typing that showcased his utter lack of regard for grammar or spelling. Seemingly, the seventy-year-old man thought that ignoring any form of educated English made him 'hip' or 'trendy' or whatever it was that older people thought younger people were and that they, too, ought to be. She rubbed her hand over the right side of her face and narrowed her eyes as she noticed Alanna's personal message. Her brow creased and she felt her mouth twist into a bitter scowl as she bit the inside of her lip.

As if the entire populace of the Garden weren't obsessed enough as it was with the spitefully fabricated notion that she, Rinn, and Callum were an 'item' without his little sister condoning the rumours. Not that she ought to be angry; Alanna was only a child after all. At fifteen years old, she wasn't nearly as grown up as she would like to think she was. Alanna knew that the talk was just talk – she just liked teasing her brother and her all-but-sister. No reason for Rinn to get worked up at all. Still, she couldn't help the bristling annoyance that was welling up inside her. Her childish side felt a reckless desire to scream or smash something while her mature, more detached side told her venomously that she was overreacting – stop being such a child! Rinn closed her eyes, controlling her breathing carefully as she relaxed her jaw and tried not to grit her teeth in spite. _Calm down_, she told herself. _Calm down – this isn't anything to get angry about_. She inhaled deeply before opening her eyes and calmly closing the lid of her laptop. As she heard the whirring of the drives beginning to put it into standby mode, the familiar bleep of her instant messaging program sounded. Must have forgotten to sign out, she thought dully and opened the lid of her computer. The toast in the bottom right hand corner of the screen heralded Callum's initiation of a conversation. She clicked the window on the taskbar.

Callum says: You still want to come to the Training Centre this evening?

Rinn says: What time?

Callum says: Seven.

Rinn says: Who's going?

Callum says: Er, let's see.

Callum says: You, me, Leila, Sierra. I think Marlene was talking about going too, but she has to pack for Galbadia so she isn't sure.

Callum says: Oh, and maybe Kirel. But he might be going out with Asher tonight. Alanna was talking about how she wnated to come, but I don't know…

The mention of his sister's name made Rinn bristle again. The little minx! And Callum was considering letting her come along with them, after the humiliation Alanna had subjected she, Rinn, to? Fat chance. Alanna would be staying in her dorm, right where she belonged, if Rinn had anything to say about it. (Which she did.)

Rinn says: Speaking of Alanna – please take the time to kill her at the next opportune moment.

Callum says: wanted

Callum says: Huh?

Rinn says: Did you SEE her personal message?

Callum says: Yeah.

Rinn says: And?!

Callum says: What about it?

Rinn says: You KNOW how they're talking already – I certainly DON'T need her encouraging them.

Callum says: Oh, come on Rinn. You know no one takes that stuff seriously.

Her eyes flashed, livid with fury. Why was he taking Alanna's side? Surely he ought to be as angry about the rumours as she was! She closed the instant messenger with peerless belligerence and snapped the lid of her laptop down, fuming.

Callum says: Rinn?

_This message could not be delivered to all recipients: Rinn?_

Callum says: Are you there, Rinn?

_This message could not be delivered to all recipients: Are you there, Rinn?_

Rinn is now offline.

How _could _he be so complacent? _Oh_, her childish self snapped, _of _course_ he wouldn't care_! It wasn't _his _reputation that was on the line and it certainly wasn't him that would be known as 'easy' if gossip got too much out of hand. Her older, mature self amended that it wasn't a big deal, and she was the stupid one for making it out to be one. To the casual observer, Corinne Leonhart was simply very, _very _annoyed at the untruths projected by Garden gossip. To a more scrupulous observer, she was a prime example of the old reprimand "Methinks she doth protest too much". Rinn sighed and closed her eyes, her eyebrows pulled down in a fierce scowl. She stood up a little too violently and had to catch herself on the edge of her desk to regain her balance.

Rinn moved over to her large, rectangular mirror and examined her face carefully, before following her nose out to the kitchen of the small four-bedroom dorm that she had elected to share with Leila Kinneas, Marlene McKinnon and Sierra Hunter rather than keep her single residence in the dormitory complex. She made the decision to share after three years of living in a single unit largely because Leila nagged her about it almost every waking minute, and because Rinn figured that she could get out of a fair deal of domestic torture if there were other people to share the chores with. As it was, Rinn did the washing up for each meal while Leila was in charge of keeping all the surfaces clean; Marlene was responsible for the washing and ironing of everyone's clothes while Sierra cooked everyone's meals. This morning, Sierra was to be found in front of the stove, peering into a frying pan at something that smelt very much like a pancakes.

- - -

Rinn padded into the kitchen, her waist-length hair swinging behind her in a thick charcoal plait while her fringe hung messily by her cheekbones. Her slippers were silent on the linoleum floor; the result when she said "Good morning" to Sierra was that the redhead jerked and dropped her spatula. She bent down and grabbed the handle, scowling at Rinn as she stood up.

"Morning," she said grudgingly and turned back to her pancakes. A small stack of perhaps five sat on a chipped plate near the stove.

Rinn folded her arms and sauntered closer, rubbing her hands slowly up and down over her upper arms. The silver ring called Griever that bore the head of a lion on one half and an angel's wing on the other was cold on the middle finger of her right hand. She watched the light glance off of it at different angles as she flexed her fingers over her left arm. Coming to Sierra on her right side, she flicked her eyes from her ring to the contents of the frying pan; a large, slightly misshapen pancake sat in the middle of it. It was just beginning to form the deep bubbles in the centre and firm up around the edges.

"'Scuse," muttered Sierra as she angled her arm so that she could flip the pancake easily. Rinn obliged and stepped backwards, watching the redheaded cook as she tossed the concoction into the air with a graceful expertise that can only be learned from practice – persistence until the technique became as natural as breathing. Sierra scrutinized the pancake to make sure it wasn't rising too quickly before turning to Rinn.

"I've thought of something," she informed the black-haired girl.

Rinn raised an eyebrow. "That's a first. I shall write it in my little book of accomp-"

"Oh, shut up," Sierra said scathingly.

Rinn said nothing, waiting for Sierra to go on.

"Remember how you said that I'd never be able to make you, Your Worshipfulness SeeD Cadet, Rank Twenty-Four, Miss Rinn Leonhart, jealous?"

Rinn grunted her vague recollection.

"Well, I've got it," beamed the flaming haired SeeD.

"And exactly _how _are you going to make me jealous?"

"For me to know and you to find out. So, you think I can do it?" Sierra asked, grinning with the assurance of an actor who has delivered her lines a hundred times and knows exactly the reaction they will provoke in the audience and the expected retort from her colleague.

"Five hundred Gil that you can't."

Sierra raised her eyebrows. Five hundred had exceeded her hopes. "Two weeks?"

Rinn snorted. "You can have two _months_."

The redhead flashed a grin and held out a hand which Rinn shook, a look of self-assured arrogance in her stone grey eyes.

Sierra locked eyes with Rinn for a few seconds before turning abruptly and skipping over to the large whiteboard the four girls had had installed when they first moved into the dormitory together – the whiteboard where the details of the many, many bets the girls had taken with each other were recorded. Under the details for the as-yet-unresolved 'Sierra Will Burn Something Before Rinn Forgets to Wash Up' (supported by all but Sierra), 'You Would Break Your Hand If You Punched Callum Because His Head Is A Rock' (supported by Leila and Rinn; opposed by Sierra and Marlene) and 'Leila Will Be Married Before She Is Twenty-One' (supported by all but Leila), Sierra was scrawling the title of her newest wager, 'Sierra Will Make Rinn Jealous of Her', along with the appropriate timeframes and amounts bet.

"What's going on?" Rinn jumped and turned to her right, to see that Leila had appeared silently beside her.

"Sierra and I just bet that she couldn't make me jealous of her within two months," Rinn informed Leila.

"For and against?"

"Should be obvious."

Leila, pyjamaed like Rinn was, bounced forwards and took the whiteboard marker from the hand of Sierra who had just stood up. She crouched down to the bottom of the scribble-filled board and put a large tick in purple marker in the column in which she was to record her support or opposition. Seemingly she was confident of Sierra's ability to make Rinn envious. Leila's nose twitched as she sniffed the air around her.

"Do you smell something off?" she asked Rinn as she snapped the lid back on the whiteboard marker. Rinn, brow already creased from wondering what Sierra could possibly be planning, grunted her accord. Just as she did so, a strident, blaring beep resonated from the fire alarm, situated just above the stove. The three girls gasped and spun to face the appliance that was causing the squalling alarm to sound and saw a thick, opaque cloud of black smoke rising from the frying pan. Sierra groaned and ran over to the smouldering remains of what had once been a pancake as the fire sprinklers that Headmistress Xu had had installed six months ago came on; the result was the scorching pan emitting a violent hiss. Sierra jumped back with a yelp.

"Whuzzat?" queried Marlene, who had just appeared at the doorway, her sandy blonde hair messy and bedraggled. She was clad in too-small baby-pink sweatpants, a baggy blue t shirt and calf-high tan ugg boots; she had obviously just gotten out of bed.

Leila pointed mutely at the doused remains of breakfast; Rinn was crouched by the whiteboard, scribbling the finalities on the bet entitled 'Sierra Will Burn Something Before Rinn Forgets to Wash Up'. The defeated cook turned to see her scrawling on the board and groaned again.

As Rinn finished and replaced the marker's lid, the three girls rounded on their debtor, their eyes glinting victoriously. Rinn held out her hand, smiling innocently. "Two hundred Gil, please."

"Times three," Marlene deemed it appropriate to chime in.

Sierra looked around at the three expectant hands being held out to her. "Aw, crap," she lamented.

- - - 

**Author's Note: **And so ends chapter one. Did you like? Did you hate? Please tell me what you think. I'll put a snog in the next chapter if you do. (I am not bribing you. -jedi hand wave-) UNLIKE THE PRODUCERS OF BONES. ghweiogheo iheihio rehrjio rohitjhi roh rt (end rant) Ahem. Please review. :D

**Legal Yadda: **Don't own anything except the plot and the younger generation. If I did, there would have been a bleeding remake by now.


	3. Symbiosis

**Back to Basics**

Chapter Two

_Symbiosis_

Callum arrived at the Training Centre at ten to seven that evening, clothed in worn baggy blue jeans, a light brown t shirt that he'd grabbed off of the floor only ten minutes before, a bottle green waistcoat and black calf-high combat boots. Covering his almost-shoulder-length redbrown hair was his favourite cowboy hat that he had gotten from his father on his sixteenth birthday. Everyone but Irvine (who thought it was 'damn sexy') and Alanna (who thought it made Callum look cute) despised the hat with a passion possibly only equalled by Squall Leonhart's well-renown abhorrence for social gatherings. In his hands (covered with fingerless black leather gloves) he held a large machinegun which had been given to him for his own by Laguna Loire, whom he had idolized since childhood, on his thirteenth birthday – the year that he, his twin and Rinn entered the SeeD program. Leila switched into the Medical program at the end of the first semester, however, with the declaration that 'combat just wasn't for her'. She graduated first in her class at seventeen years old in the year 1432; the same year that Callum passed his SeeD exam – two years Rinn passed hers. Leila was now one of the highest ranked people on the Medical Squad for her age. Callum was proud of his sister – something that he would never tell her, of course. She would never let him live down the fact that he did not, in fact, find her an acute pain in the arse; an impression that both of the twins gave when around each other in public. No one in the history of any of the Gardens worldwide had ever had a reputation for bickering like the Kinneas twins did – if it wasn't one thing, it was always, always, _always _another.

One of their favourite topics to argue about was which of the two was the oldest. Most would consider it a relatively simple matter – which twin was born first? If that had been the start and end of the argument, Leila would have been declared the elder and that would have been that. But Callum was adamant that he had been conceived first, which would make him the older of the two. The only problem with this claim was that he had no hard proof to back it up, and this was Leila's argument. When it looked like Callum was losing the argument (as it was wont to do), he would state the well-conceived truth that he was taller. Not much of a point, but Leila couldn't well respond to it without reverting to the obsolete "I'm older" or conceding defeat – she was a foot shorter than Callum's 6'1½".

Callum closed his eyes and slid down the wall into a crouch, placing his gun gently at his right side. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. Six fifty-eight. They should be here soon. Just as he snapped the lid of his phone down and stuck it back in his pocket, he heard the footsteps of two or three people coming towards him. Hushed giggling and excited chatter followed as Leila, Sierra and Marlene approached.

"Oh my god!" giggled Leila. "She's not going to live _that _down in a hurry!"

"I know," Sierra said, suppressing laughter. "What kind of girl dates younger at that age anyway?"

Leila looked reproachful. "I started dating Ed when I was sixteen and he was fifteen."

"Yeah," Marlene put in, "But there are only a couple of months between you and Edward."

"Only a few months between you and Ed," Sierra repeated, "but there's more than a _year_ between Oliver and Hannah. And Hannah's _seventeen_."

"What's his first name again?"

"It's Michael, isn't it?" Leila mused doubtfully after a moment of consideration. "Michael Oliver?"

"Yeah," Marlene agreed, "I think so."

"I wonder how long they've been together for."

"Definitely not more than a couple of days," Sierra supplied, "unless she was cheating on Sam."

"Pretty inconsiderate," said Leila. "I mean, if that's true it's only a couple of days since she broke up with him."

"Oh, come on. I saw that coming miles off. She couldn't wait to get away from him."

"She's got a point, you know," Marlene said to Leila. "Hannah had been on the verge of breaking it off for weeks."

"Poor Sam," Leila said.

Marlene and Sierra looked at her incredulously – they all knew of Sam's less-than-fantastic reputation – until they caught the snide glint in her eyes and saw her holding back laughter. All three burst out in giggles as they approached Callum, who was stumbling to his feet.

"Hey little brother," Leila greeted him cheerfully as Marlene and Sierra muttered their greetings.

Callum glared at her. "Hello Leila," he said stiffly, and turned to Marlene and Sierra. "Hi. How're you two?"

"Poorer," Sierra sighed. "I just lost 600 Gil to this lot."

"Ugh. Don't ask," Marlene said wearily.

"She's spent these last two days packing for Galbadia," Sierra said in response to Callum's questioning look.

"Ah. Where's Rinn?" he asked, utterly failing to pull off a nonchalant air.

"She's coming," Leila snickered. "She was finishing up her report on whatever she was doing in Centra."

"Cleaning out the Ruins," Callum said absently, his eyes fixed on the corridor than led from the main Garden complex to the mouth of the Training Centre where they now stood. "They were absolutely infested with Tonberries."

"You're hopeless," Leila said scathingly.

Callum looked up sharply.

"But don't worry!" his sister said, brightening. "Sierra's got everything sorted for you. Though she could do _far_ better than you," Leila muttered, making no effort to conceal her disgust at the idea of anyone dating her brother; neither did she care to clarify exactly who 'she' was.

"What?" Callum looked blankly from Leila to Sierra and back to Leila again – then threw a questioning glance at Marlene, who shrugged – seemingly she was just as out of the loop as he was.

The other two girls looked at each other for a moment before promptly bursting out into fits of giggles.

"For me to know," Sierra said, "and you to find out."

She was spared having to provide a less cryptic answer by the heavy footsteps that had become signature to Rinn's trademark black 20-hole Dr Marten boots. She was dressed in faded skinny-legged jeans, a black trench coat over a grey cotton tank top, black leather fingerless gloves, her Griever ring (and accompanying necklace that her father had had made as an exact replica of his own) and, of course, the boots which had been her constant companions since she bought them with her first pay check from SeeD at age fifteen. She was armed with the Punisher model of the gunblade, which she carried bare in her gloved hand. Callum broke away from the gathering that had formed around the entrance to the Training Centre and walked up to meet Rinn as she came briskly down the corridor.

"Killed Alanna yet?" Rinn enquired.

"Nope," Callum replied, turning a neat 180 to keep pace by her side.

"Why not?"

"Uh–" His response was cut off by something, the nature of which the author was too lazy to fabricate.

Rinn came to an abrupt stop as she approached Leila and Sierra; Callum followed suit jerkily.

"Is this it?" he asked, looking at his sister and her friends from under the brim of the universally despised hat.

Leila glanced at each of the party. "I guess so. Unless Kirel's coming," she said.

Callum shook his head. "Asher seems to be his priority," he shrugged.

"Okay then," his twin said authoritatively. "Guess we go?"

There was a collective nod as the girls and Callum shrugged off their outer layers of clothing; a growing pile of jackets and coats formed quickly at the entrance to the Training Centre. Satisfied that they had rid themselves of any hindrances to their agility, the five set off into the purpose-planted jungle.

- - -

Grats, the group decided at around eight o'clock, were boring. Very boring. Even after exploiting the Level Up command shamelessly, they were bored almost to tears with the monotonous and entirely predictable beasts. Their weapons, though not the best models, were more than adequate in their quest to destroy the inhabitants of the Training Centre. Twice Rinn had wandered off in the opposite direction after slaying her Grat and twice the remnants of the group had had to locate and catch up with her. On one such occasion, Leila had hit Callum with a stick and told him to shoot his Grat through the head and be done with it. When he asked "Why?" Leila responded thus: "Because your girlfriend's wandered off again and we have to find her."

"She's not my girlfriend," he muttered darkly, pulling the brim of his hat over his face seconds too late; Leila had seen the look of injured longing reflected in his emerald eyes. She recoiled for a moment, feeling a rush of pity and sympathy for her brother. If Edward had been aloof and uninterested in her… she shuddered inwardly and shook her head.

"Yet you never stop dreaming," she said, more softly than the phrase would suggest. Callum readjusted his hat and composed himself, following the three other girls in their search for Rinn.

She was to be found sitting by the lake in the southern sector of the Training Centre, perched on a mossy log.

"Rinn," Leila called.

Rinn jerked. "Oh," she said, staggering to her feet. "Sorry."

"What were you doing down here?"

"Thinking," Rinn replied simply.

"Aren't you always?"

Rinn shrugged and rejoined the group, picking up her Punisher as she walked toward them, her stride firm and gait loping. "Are we going to try to find something more difficult than Grats?" Rinn asked. "Or are we going to call it quits here?" She looked questioningly around at the group, who in turn looked in such a manner among themselves. Coming to a silent consensus, Leila spoke for them.

"Give it about half an hour. And after that, turn in?"

Rinn tipped her head to the side, jerking her shoulders in accord. "'Kay."

The girls, aside from Rinn, resumed idle chatter as they made their way up the steep bank of the lake, which was mostly loose dirt, muddy in the few feet closest to the water; rocks; and plants sustained by magic - it never rained in the man-made forest, nor had an internal watering system come very high on the Garden's agenda when all plant life could be maintained with a simple water spell every few days. Scrambling the last couple of feet of the ascent using their hands for support as the loose dirt slid down the bank, the company of five reached the main area of the Training Centre and headed right until they came to the bridge that would lead them back to the entrance, the foyer, perhaps, of the enclosure. Heading towards the large iron gates, the group took a sharp turn to their right and began to ascend a slightly worn path, used mostly by older students and SeeD candidates who wished to infiltrate the breeding grounds of the Training Centre's inhabitants during mating season. During this period of time, the fiends were more aggressive than usual; males wanted to defend their mates and the females wanted to defend their nests. Breeding season for Grats had passed, and _hunting _season for the T Rexaurs had begun, and that was what the group hoped to find within the traditional breeding grounds, for the dinosaurs were known to enjoy feeding upon the young of other monsters.

As they approached the top of the ascent, they took cover behind a large tree as it had been drilled into them during their years as students that it would be foolish to stride ignorantly into a ground potentially infested with enemies. Rinn surveyed the area, pressing her body close to the tree and peering around it, as behind her was just under a foot of ground before a long, steep and bumpy drop to the lake that she had been sitting by previously. The others were bunched up behind her, all crammed together as closely as possible as if playing a very strict game of sardines. Rinn was all too aware that Callum was the one directly behind her, and she could feel the warmth of his body pressed against hers. She was also aware that the sensation was not an unpleasant one, to her acute annoyance. There was no reason for her to enjoy _Callum's _warmth, of all people's. He was her friend, perhaps her best friend. She enjoyed his company, yes, but was that grounds to enjoy his touch? She doubted it very much. Bristling, she shifted her body a little more to the right, trying her hardest not to notice that Callum had mimicked her motion.

The breeding ground, from what Rinn could see, looked to be clear of monsters of any variety; not even a Grat was in sight. She turned around, intending to motion to the others that the area was safe, when a violent _crunch _pervaded the air. She jerked and gasped out of reflex, hearing the T Rexaur before she saw it, for see it she did, as its muzzle appeared amongst the leaves of a tree some ten yards away. Rinn's four companions turned in response to her original reaction, facing the dinosaur as it tossed its enormous head back and gave a booming roar.

"Get down!" hollered Callum, and before Rinn realised what he was doing, he had grabbed her right shoulder and forced her to the ground. She let out a yell of surprise as she felt herself sprawl backwards. The loose dirt, upon which she landed, did not hold its place, rather, it scraped and slid its way along the floor of the constructed forest – and down the steep descent to the lake some forty feet below. Rinn, as she felt her body slide, made haste to snatch at loose roots and oddly shaped rocks as she moved; the former snapped in her grasp and the latter, not being any more than compacted dirt and dried mud, crumbled under the force she exerted upon them. Rinn reached out, not only with her hands, but also with her feet as the dirt moved beneath her to carry her down the slope, hoping that the grip on the toes of her boots would fix itself in an agreeable crevice or indentation in the ground and slow her to a stop. Once, twice, three times, she felt the rubber tread on her boots slow her minimally as they lodged themselves for a second or two in one such a place. Perhaps her feet would have found a suitable hold, had her tilted boots not collided with a large rock protruding six or seven inches from the slope, not catching it, but rather it catching her and throwing her ferociously backwards. Now she was hurtling faster still down the rugged terrain, headed head-first for the murky lake now, perhaps, twenty feet below. She let out a harsh howl as she felt a rock crash into her rib, and another as a stick tore at her shirt and the flesh beneath it. Whether or not anyone heard or heeded her call was unknown to her; all that she was aware of were the bumps and bruises she was fast acquiring during her rapid descent downhill. Finally – thankfully – it came to an end. She tumbled down the last few feet of the bank, until it formed a muddy hill not more than a foot from the water's edge, and Rinn's velocity when she came into contact with this was such that she became airborne for but a second before she threw her right arm down in front of her to break her fall into the water. Her hand made contact with the floor of the lake, and a sickening crunch followed as her arm jarred and ligaments in her shoulder snapped from the force of the impact. She rolled forward once in a final encore and hit her head against a rock protruding from the shallow water. She remembered no more for some time.

- - -

Rinn groaned. She opened her eyes, saw that the cloudy water around her was tinged with red, and groaned again. Looking around her, she realised that she was, all in all, lucky not to have drowned while she was unconscious. By all rights she should have landed face-down in the water and ended her days out cold, bleeding and broken. But by some freakish luck, her head had remained resting upon the rock which broke the skin, thus keeping her vitally above water. The rest of her body had not been so lucky. Rinn could feel the cold biting at her toes and fingers and wished that her clothes had been magically waterproof. Taking inventory of her injuries, she deduced that she had at least cracked a couple of ribs, bruised her arm badly at best and gotten one hell of a lot of cuts and bruises elsewhere on her body. She didn't even want to start thinking about her shoulder; it hurt. A lot. A _lot _a lot. She had a sneaking suspicion that what she was now victim to was something she had been forced to do a study on by choosing a topic out of a hat in one of her mandatory medical courses – acromio-clavicular joint separation, the tearing of the ligament that joined the clavicle to the surrounding bones. It was caused, Rinn knew, by an awkward fall where the person's weight falls on their hand and the arm is locked straight, forcing the bones apart. And by Hyne, it hurt. She groaned and pushed against the rock with her good left arm, managing to give herself enough leverage to stand up. Glad of her leather Dr Martens, Rinn sloshed through the water to the edge of the lake. She was at roughly the same place she was sitting at before, she realised gratefully, glad to have her bearings. It occurred to her that she had had her Punisher before and that she did not have it now, but after a moment's internal debate, she decided that she could come back to look for it later. Even if someone else found it, it would be of no use to them as she was the only gunblade specialist aside from her father. At that moment, all she was concerned with was finding the others and regrouping. She suspected that they would have headed to the Secret Area, as per usual, to heal. It was likely that they had taken care of the T Rexaur in the time she had been unconscious, but in the event that they had not, Rinn was still fairly confident that that would be where they were bound after the battle wound up. Steeling herself against the pain that was beginning to return to her aching limbs, she made her way to the Secret Area.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she made her way to the end of the tunnel that led to the secluded balcony and found Leila bent over her brother, fussing over his (seemingly numerous) injuries. Sierra and Marlene were nowhere in sight, and tendrils of worry crept over Rinn's skin, making her shiver. Rinn took a couple of steps forward before her body decided that that was quite enough. She seemed happy enough to humour it and sat down on the cold stone floor. She shivered again as the coolness from the granite ground seeped into her wet jeans and chilled her skin. Callum noticed her presence when her teeth began to chatter audibly from the drop in body temperature.

"Rinn?"

She looked up.

"What happened to you? You look awful. Where did you go?"

Rinn glared at him. "I've been lying unconscious in the lake," she informed him callously, "because you pushed me down the hill."

Callum gaped. "I didn't," he said, appalled.

Rinn looked daggers at him. However, he was saved from further reprimand by Leila finishing with bandaging his left arm and leaping up to see to Rinn.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes wide as she surveyed Rinn, her gaze resting on the blood drying over her forehead and into her hair.

"Do I look okay?" Rinn shot back waspishly.

"Okay, stupid question. A not so stupid one; what the _hell _happened to you?"

"Your _dear brother,_" Rinn replied through gritted teeth.

"Ah. What did he do?" Leila was peering at Rinn's rapidly swelling shoulder. "And what the hell is this?"

"I think it's an A/C joint separation," Rinn said drearily. "And he took it upon himself to shove me down the hill into the lake."

"A what?" She blinked twice and then turned on her brother. "You moron!" she admonished. "What did you do that for?"

"An acromio-clavic-" Rinn began at the same time as Callum said "I was _trying _to keep her out of the T Rexaur's way."

"Obviously, you succeeded. But I think you may have caused more damage _this _way," Leila said nastily as she gestured at Rinn. She turned to the latter. "And it's a what?"

Callum muttered a "Sorry" and turned away. Leila noticed that he looked decidedly mortified.

"An acromio-clavicular joint separation," Rinn said. "I think."

"Ah," said Leila. "I see. Still doesn't tell me what the hell it is."

"Torn ligaments."

"Oh. Well, that's easier to get my head around."

Rinn grunted. "Where are Sierra and Marlene?"

"Sierra lost her nunchaku. I think they're looking for it," Leila replied.

"Huh. I lost my gunblade."

Leila sighed. "I'd better go find it then," she said resignedly, "before some prat finds it first and decides to take it as ransom. Happened to Belle Calvyn last week with her gloves." Rinn opened her mouth to protest, but Leila interrupted. "You're certainly in no condition to go. Take care of him. Make sure he doesn't hurt, maim, kill or injure himself while I'm gone. Actually, make sure he doesn't do anything. I don't want to come back to a corpse or two. Hyne knows I've already spent enough of my magic on him already today," she instructed Rinn, gesturing at Callum, and then left the area at a half-jog.

Rinn sighed and let her eyes fall shut as she slowly lowered her aching body onto the hard, cold floor, glad to be able to relax her limbs. Her shoulder was searing and the rest of her was plagued by other wounds, each screaming for her attention. The pain in her ribs was to that in her shoulder as amateur screamo was to professional – a lot wilder though slightly less painful to listen to, however small the improvement was. She moaned softly.

"Rinn?"

She opened her eyes to see Callum standing over her. "What?" she asked irritably, pulling her legs and torso up and stumbling to her feet awkwardly, using her left arm for balance. The effort of the shift and the movement of her injured shoulder made her head spin. She swayed faintly until Callum, now standing in front of her, steadied her with a hand. He had enough sense, at least, to grip her left shoulder instead of her right.

"I'm sorry," he said candidly. "It was stupid."

Rinn's eyebrows pulled downwards angrily. "Damn right it was, Kinneas. What the _hell _did you think you were you doing?"

"It was reflex," he asserted. "I wasn't thinking…"

"Damn right," Rinn repeated under her breath.

"I just didn't want you to get hurt," Callum said resignedly, waiting for the outburst that he had doomed himself to as soon as he had opened his mouth. He was not disappointed in his expectations.

"Didn't... what?" she didn't want or wait for a reply. "May I remind you," Rinn exploded, her voice cracking so badly that it bordered on a shriek, "that I am _five SeeD ranks _above you? That I became a SeeD _two years _before you? That I have been on twice as many missions? That I can hold my own amongst men ten years my senior? That I am the only combat-ready gunblade specialist alive?" she paused for a moment, inhaling and exhaling heavily, livid with anger and defiance. "What, Kinneas? What is it that makes you feel like you have to… to defend me? To look after me? To coddle me like… like a newborn child?" With all disregard for her injuries, Rinn drew her shoulders back, balling her fists, and took a furious step towards Callum. "I can take care of myself, thank you," she said coldly. Narrowing her eyes, and with all the venom she could muster, she seethed "And you know what? _I don't need you._"

He made no effort to disguise his emotions as he took an involuntary step back; shock, hurt and disappointment mingled with bold defiance and, curiously, a touch of pride were etched upon his face and reflected in his emerald eyes. He closed them for a brief moment, calming himself, and when he opened them he met Rinn's own stony grey eyes determinedly. Rinn was afraid to maintain eye contact with Callum and yet unable to break it. There was a glint in his eyes that had not been there before, one that intimidated her and made her want to turn and run from him. Contrary to her wishes and desires, she remained rooted to the spot, transfixed by his intent gaze. There was definitely something new there, a sanction, a go-ahead, perhaps, that he had been denying himself for an untold amount of time that he had now been granted. And beneath that, an untamed longing, a need, a desire that had lain dormant, and it was with this in his eyes that he was looking, staring, piercing through Rinn's being. His countenance was no longer mild and gentle, but decided and unfaltering. It was as though her reprimands and malice had done nothing but boost his confidence, unlock a new part of him. And she was afraid. For the first time in as long as she could remember, Corinne Leonhart was actually afraid. She could feel the heat creeping into her face and cursed her pale skin as he took a step forward, then two, never breaking eye contact as he closed the gap between them, each _clunk _of his boots as loud as an earthquake to Rinn. She knew that she knew what was going to happen, and she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop it. Both of these facts terrified her. She was now as powerless as Callum had made her out to be, and it was all his fault. Her cheeks were burning and she could feel herself beginning to tremble – _because of the cold, because of the cold, it's because of the bleeding cold!_ she told herself – as Callum's fingers brushed her jaw softly. She froze. She didn't know if her face was bright red or stark white, because she couldn't make her hand move to touch it. All she seemed to be capable of was staring mutely at Callum as he towered above her 5'5", although in reality he was just over six inches taller. And then her breath too seemed to freeze as he came closer, closer, closer until their noses were almost touching. She inhaled sharply and involuntarily as her eyes closed themselves. Her senses sharpened; she was aware, in those few fleeting seconds, of Callum's hand lacing the side of her face and settling beneath her jaw with his thumb on her cheek, of his warm breath mingling with her own, of his nervousness as he pressed his lips tentatively to her own, of her heartbeat quickening considerably (because she was uncomfortable, because she was uncomfortable, because she was uncomfortable), and of the sudden wave of light headedness that struck her (because her shoulder hurt, because her shoulder hurt) as she grew accustomed to the warm pressure on her lips.

And then it was over. Rinn felt Callum draw away, and became aware of her inability to move, or open her eyes, or breathe, or function normally. Still stuck in the kiss, she was rendered completely dysfunctional. And then sensation returned to her body; her eyes flew open and she gasped in precious oxygen, breathing heavily. Her hand, as it had wished to do before but found itself incapable, flew up to her face and to her dismay, found it hot. Her dizziness, however, did not fade and she felt herself swaying, and unable to keep balance, she stumbled backward. Reflexively, Callum took a large step forward and steadied her, his hands capturing her slim waist. She caught her breath as her head jerked up, and she made the mistake of looking at his eyes. Satisfaction, hopefulness… and there was something else there, too. Something that Rinn did not want to deal with. And in that instant, she began to think clearly again and anger struck her. Anger at the fact that she had been taken advantage of, at the fact that she had not had a say in what had happened, at that satisfied smirk on Callum's face! She felt her expression change from one of mild surprise to one of fury, and, ignoring once more the pain of her injuries, began to struggle in Callum's hold. All too suddenly, she wrenched her body backwards and he let go of her and she staggered disjointedly across the balcony. Callum made to step towards her, but he caught the look upon her face and changed his mind, resulting in an odd jerk forwards then back. Regaining her balance, she hurtled forward with the intention of screaming blue murder at Callum, but felt a change of heart at the last minute; instead, she drew her good arm back and thrust it forward with all the force she could muster into his jaw. She swore loudly as her fist and his face collided with a sickening _crunch_. Callum yelled incoherently as Rinn continued to run off a steady stream of curses picked up from her uncle Zell. Her knuckles, she realised, had hit the hard edge of his jaw dead on, at least fracturing the delicate bones in her hand.

"Dammit!" she howled.

Callum opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it as Rinn whipped herself around to glare at him before stalking out of the room with as much pride as her humiliation would allow her.

He rubbed his now-bruised and throbbing jaw with his right hand as he watched her leave. _So much for that_, he thought, utterly demoralised and despairing.

- - -

"What the hell?" Leila demanded when she saw Rinn approaching her near the tree at the abandoned breeding ground. "What the hell are you doing here? And what the _hell _happened to your hand?" she asked, looking at Rinn's misshapen limb.

"As to the first, your brother pissed me off. And as to the second… your brother pissed me off."

"Right then. Exactly what did he do?"

Rinn turned away mutinously, gritting her teeth and steeling herself against the pain as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Rinn?"

No reply.

"Rinn? Seriously, Rinn, what did he do?"

Still no reply.

"Corinne Julia, you tell me right now what the _hell _my brother did, or so help me, I'll go and ask him myself."

Rinn was loathed to turn around, but the idea of Callum telling Leila of what had passed in the Secret Area was more nauseating than the thought of telling Leila of herself. Barely. She turned, a look of sheer revulsion in her eyes as she did so. She could barely make her lips move. "He kissed me," she said, and promptly sat down facing the opposite direction. She averted her gaze from Leila's boots and located the tattered and bloodied corpse of the T Rexaur. In an effort to distract herself from remembering the kiss, Rinn began to count the wounds on the reptile's large body.

After a silence spanning about fifteen seconds, Leila spoke. "He… kissed you?" she said absently, disbelief echoing in her voice.

"Yes," Rinn snapped. "Must you rub it in?"

"Sorry," Leila said in the same dazed tone. She turned to face Rinn. "He _kissed you?"_

"Yes!"

"Hyne," Leila muttered. "Wait."

Rinn swivelled her head and shot Leila a warning glare.

"He kissed you… and then what?"

"I punched him," Rinn said, her tone devoid of emotion.

"And you broke your hand."

"What does it look like?"

"You punched him, and you broke your hand?"

"Are you stupid?"

Leila shrieked with delight.

"What the hell are you so happy about?" Rinn demanded.

"We won! The bet! About punching him! We won the bet! Oh, they'll be _squirming!_" Leila said gleefully.

Rinn sighed. "Oughtn't we find… the others?" she said, avoiding using Callum's name.

"I suppose so," Leila commented. "Oh," she said, "I found your Punisher. It's over there." She gestured to the gunblade propped up against a boulder a few yards to the left.

"And how do you suppose I'll carry it?"

"With your ha-" Leila looked at Rinn's deformed left hand and swollen right shoulder. "Oh. Right. I'll get it." She retrieved the weapon and sat down next to Rinn, laying it by her side on the ground.

"What happened to getting the others?"

"Marlene's coming up, I could see her from where your gunblade was."

"Oh."

True to Leila's prediction, Marlene's head of blonde curls appeared at the edge of the hill, followed by shoulders, a torso and legs. It appeared to Rinn that she was talking to someone on her mobile phone; her suspicions were confirmed as she Marlene drew closer, obviously holding a phone to her ear and speaking into it. As she approached Rinn and Leila, she said "Hang on" and tilted the phone away from her mouth.

"Sierra's in the Secret Area with Callum," Marlene said, looking questioningly at Rinn, who turned her head away at the mention of his name. "They want to know where Rinn is and why she isn't with him." Rinn bristled at Callum's cooperative concern with her whereabouts and scowled into her good shoulder.

Leila answered. "Tell Sierra that Rinn's with me, and that Callum pissed her off. She can tell Callum if she wants."

Marlene frowned, sighed and shrugged, then repeated the message. After a pause, she said "Sierra asks what Callum did. He won't tell her."

Leila looked at Rinn, who was still not looking at either she or Marlene. Rinn must have sensed that the question was directed at her, for she answered huffily, "It's none of her damn business."

Marlene repeated this too, followed by "Dunno… yeah… no, I don't know… yeah, see you there." and snapped the slide phone shut. "She says to meet her at the entrance. She's got Kadowaki coming down. And she got her nun chucks."

"Alright," Leila said. She turned to Rinn. "You okay to get down there?"

Rinn grunted. "Yeah, I think so." She uncrossed her legs and used them to stand up awkwardly, moving her arms as little as possible.

Marlene stared at Rinn's left hand. "What happened?"

"She punched my brother in the face," Leila said with some satisfaction, picking up Rinn's Punisher and getting to her feet.

Marlene looked dismayed. "And it broke?"

"Looks that way," Leila smirked.

Marlene was silent for a moment. "…Poo," she concluded fittingly. "How much was it?"

Leila tried not to laugh. "Six hundred. You were so adamant that we'd never win it…"

Marlene groaned. "That's just not cool," she observed.

"Maybe not for you…"

They made their way back to the entrance of the Training Centre, which was no mean feat for Rinn. Stabbing pain from her ribs, a dull yet persistent ache from both her shoulder and her hand, along with her assortments of cuts and bruises were beginning to take their toll on her. Each step left her breathing heavily and painfully, and she was beginning to feel light-headed again. Rinn managed to stagger her way through the large iron gate from the southern sector of the centre and into the entrance before fatigue and intensity of the pain consumed her and she gave in to unconsciousness for the second time that day.

- - -

**Author's Note: ** Congratulations. You have just read 10 061 words of drivel, if you didn't skip straight to this chapter. I'm proud of you. But hey, I _wrote _10 061 words of drivel. And if anyone is wondering what on earth an obscure injury such as an acromio-clavicular is doing in there, I _was _actually forced to research it and present a speech. Hey, what's the point of useless knowledge if I can't share it? :P Anywho, more full-frontal snogging soon, if that's why you're reading this. If you actually want something with a plot, don't worry! There's one of them too. :D Even if it is fluffy. But if you're patient, this will be a trilogy and it gets muuuuch better in the latter two. :D Anywho... third chapter will be up soon, costing me who-knows-how many hours and/or nights of sleep. I haven't slept in 30 hours because I was finishing this chapter up and I. Am. So. Hyper. You opinions on my writing are always veeery welcome. :D

**Legal Yadda: **Nothing is mine save the younger generation of characters and the plotline. If I owned the game, Rinoa would have died.


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